6.30.2005

poem dream salad

it's all so conditional.
insulate me against the lack
with off-brand american cheese singles
and enough library books to build a mausoleum.

the future is holding me blindfolded, skewered on the arrow of time.
replace my parrot-feathered drumstick legs with paperclip twists.

my dreaming is a maze of contracts and examinations
which i retrace, not without pleasure.
perhaps, at heart, it's clear these tests are ephemeral,
as dreaming as can be,
and not the greased slipping of time
not the love that recedes like shadows
as the earth piles up
not the wilting melting salad-leaves that grow pink
with despair, and soft cubed beets.
agh, insipid food for a timid individual.

oh, life,
what a mystery:
we are such a subtle weight
we are translucent skins
we are so filled with divine love.
take me someplace i can see the light and smell the air
and feel you there beside me-
i'm afraid that all is lost.

6.28.2005


Ye olde Posted by Hello

Garden District Posted by Hello

Gators eat marshmallows Posted by Hello

El Guapo, 13ft. long Posted by Hello

Drunken Chicken Posted by Hello

Eco-Tourists Posted by Hello

Damsel Posted by Hello

Honey Island Swamp Posted by Hello

Man with an eel, Gum Bayou Posted by Hello

Heron No. 1 Posted by Hello

Gator No. 1 Posted by Hello

The Living room Posted by Hello

St. Charles Posted by Hello

Andy on the St. Charles Streetcar Posted by Hello
New Orleans Day IV, Continued

Woo, Stella!

Cornmeal crusted oysters with tabaso, honey, dijon potato salad
Mixed greens with baked goat cheese, pears
Foie gras on brioche with foie gras spring roll
Veal medallions, fondant potato, burgundy butter reduction
Frozen creme brulee, green tea ice cream and grilled pineapple
Irish Coffee

Late night: Cooter Brown's again
Oysters, tequila and wine

This morning, Day V
Camellia Grill
Soooo funny, the counter boys are all very charming, knocking knuckles
Cheeseburger, fries, coffee

Airport and whoooooooooooooooooooo(oooooooooooo)ooooosh
(flight delayed)
home

Tomorrow?
Get up at 7am and hike to the Avis on E 11th to pick up my rent-a-car, drive to Philly for my first day at the new job...

wish me luck

6.27.2005

New Orleans, Day III
Sunday

Brunch
Gumbo and coffee

Afternoon at the Aquarium

Dinner
Hoooooleeee shit.
Trey Yuen - Chinese food with Louisiana Specialties
Crab Rangoon, Hot and Sour Soup, Potstickers
Crawfish in a Spicy Lobster and Black Bean Sauce, Minced Pork and Onions
Best thing everrrr

Day IV
Monday

Lunch
Saltwater Grill
Gumbo, 1 dozen charbroiled oysters and a glass of Abita, the local beer

Honey Island Swamp Tour
Highlights including egret, blue heron, turtles, and tons of wild alligators, including a thirteen-footer. (pictures are forthcoming)

Dinner tonight is at Stella! in the Vieux Carre

We're going to go down there and take a walk and have some drinks right now. Tomorrow it's time to go home again... New job starts on Wed.
Details on dinner to come. I'm being eaten by mosquitos and there are roaches just everywhere, but I really kind of like it here, and as a bonus, Andy's family are very kind and appealingly bright and cantankerous. Aces on the absence of sugary sweetness. I could get used to them...

Hi Scott! Thanks for the emails! XO!

6.26.2005

Hooeeee. New Orleans. Food overload.

Friday:
Arrive 1pm
Lunch Drago's
3 dozen charbroiled oysters with lemon, parsley, garlic, breadcrumbs
creamed spinach dip
gumbo
1 order of deep-fried crab claws

nap, run/thunderstorm

Dinner Brussard's
Brussard's oyster sampler: oysters prepared three ways, incl. Rockefeller, Bienville, Brussard (with Tasso ham, bacon and minced peppers. Holy cow.)
Veal Brussard tenderloin medallions in port wine reduction with sauteed jumbo lump crabmeat, sauce Bechamel
Bananas Foster (split three ways)

later... Cooter's 2 dozen oysters, raw

Day 2, Saturday

run, run, run. hot.
the turtles in the lake in Audubon park have moss growing on their backs. when little kids throw Cheeri-Os in the water, they glide up like ghosts in their dozens. neat.

Blunch
Donelise's
1 large po-boy, dressed, half oyster, half catfish with horseradish and garlic Tabasco, 1 bag salt-and-vinegar potato chips, 1 Abita (local beer)

oh, sweet Jesus, mercy

shopping

Dinner
Clancy's
Appetizer bonanza: Fried oysters with spinach and melted Brie, rabbit sausage in pastry with fried onions and bearnaise sauce, crayfish wontons, Clancy's crab salad (jumbo lump, roasted red pepper mayo, hearts of palm, over mixed greens with large tomato slices)
Lobster risotto with wild mushrooms, salsify root and truffle oil,
plus some of Andy's crayfish etoufee and smoked soft-shell crabs with sauteed crabmeat
champagne
hot brownie with vanilla i.c. and hot fudge, two bites

Late night, Shake & Jake's Christmas Bar
There are three jumbo lump fuckin' KING-SIZE cockroaches running around next to the car. I do not scream like a girl, but when Andy pulls the car back to let me in over by the driveway, I walk like I've got peg-legs. There's a squashy-looking sand-colored lizard eating mosquitos over the door. Go eat roaches, Liz, before the eat you, how 'bout it? Over to the all-nite Walgreens on Napoleon and Claiborne for Visine and Benadryl. Two shots of Patron Silver, two glasses of white wine and a lot of allergy medicine. Holy mother of Jeezy. Not the best combo, maybe?
Home by 4:30am.

Day III

11am, alarm goes off
We're going on a swamp tour. If an alligator eats me, I'll make one Hell of a tasty meal.

Lunch? I'm hoping for gumbo and an Abita. Fingers crossed. Tonight, Stella's in the Quarter.

More later.

6.20.2005

the salty genius of revenge
is so tempting
Heather Havrilesky Rides Again:

"Brick by brick:

You can't please everyone, chickens. I can't stress that enough. You can try and try and try to get it right, to nail your double axel, to cook the best vegetable lasagna ever made, to defeat the forces of evil and then give the forces of good a really great back rub, but you still won't do it. Mom will still disparage your efforts, Dad will still expect more from you, your kids will resent you, your one hit will drop from the charts, your initiative on world hunger will fail, and Brad will still cheat on you with an Amazonian nut job.

Life isn't fair, hairdressers aren't meant to be pop stars, and depending on their parents' mistakes, most people are either neurotic or lazy. Chances are, any spark of life inside you was snuffed out over a decade ago. All we are is bricks in the wall, etc. See how many timeless truths you soak up in these parts? Now go buy yourself a corn dog with yellow mustard, and forget everything you've learned here. "

-Heather Havrilesky, I Like To Watch, Salon.com
http://www.salon.com/ent/tv/review/2005/06/20/i_like/index2.html

6.16.2005


Blind Idiot God Posted by Hello

swinger barbies, second ave. Posted by Hello

6.14.2005

head-scratcher of the day:

SanFranDan: Interesting story from (ex-employee) about (total moron): he went to a meeting with her and said (our company) was like a butt, with (jerk-led) group being the crack and (another) group and (my) group being the butt cheeks.

does that make him the asshole?


kill meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

6.10.2005

excellent hitchhikers guide game

http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/exhibitions/hitchhikers/swfs/42gamepopup.asp

6.09.2005

ring the night bell
pull ups, reality, the Slayer

maybe your house is a boat
and you keep your whiskey on a string in the deep waters
maybe you can't name the movie

on TV in your old room.
and you broke up with Madonna last night,

'cause you were too drunk to put up with her crap.
maybe you woke up late
or you fell so far, so fast,
trimming back your butterfly robot wings
of copper wire and corrugated tin.

maybe Morgan and McDonalds
and the preponderance of vintage clothing stores

Love Saves The Day!
and Rogan Josh
and Jose Cuervo
are making a dent in the world?

or maybe it's incontrovertible missives

making meanings of these scenes who
play like home-movies from God's beach house
on my broken white shutters.

maybe the smell of charcoal grills
wet dirt
the howls of cats and little belgian kids and stomping German feet
are blinks between the blueberry tables and the
waiting decks of Buffy's ship,
and mister-babies aren't the meaning of life.


or maybe i'm crazy. it's been said.



6.08.2005

dreams on the indian ocean, the El and the nature of failure

i wish i had an anger
to make engines of my weak edges
to weather passages of people and time
from hope to home to grape skins and blood vessels
rainwater, virtue and silence, collected
in a barrel under a rain gutter where, forgotten,
nymphs make a home away from the birds' black eyes.

i am sleeping alone-
there are scorpions in my luggage,
who run beneath the bed, black feet ticking
in the hot huffing of the fan
until dawn's awl of blue light.
if i wake up, the room empties.

my mother attends me;
i've been far away, and i came back almost whole.
i'm was doing better than that, i thought.

the ocean drags back
as if someone pulled the plug seven miles down
revealing the bone spine under the clear blue world.

in this dream, my arms and legs are useless, and my lungs stall
i am crawling like a crab up
these stairs, which seem as infinite as hope
and as hopeless as my limbs
moving in fits,
but moving as a heart moves,
until the last moment, as if it will never stop.

6.06.2005


Purity Posted by Hello

treeline Posted by Hello

bike lock: petite sophisticate Posted by Hello